


Headspace

by vauntedlove



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vauntedlove/pseuds/vauntedlove
Summary: Macy Vaughn is the queen of running from her feelings...literally. In Headspace, the feelings she refused to deal with catch up to her, with unexpected results.I'm terrible at summaries but this is set between 2x08 and 2x09. I don't know how long this will be or how often I will update but I wanted to delve into what Macy was feeling directly after the Harry and Abigael's kiss and how she became the Macy we meet in 2x09.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Headspace

Moving fast made it harder for the tears to fall.

Macy Vaughn didn’t know if she could attribute that to gravity or her innate stubbornness, but she was grateful to have a solution to crying. Maggie would have taken one look at her emotional storm and called it a breakthrough but, as she lay in bed earlier that night, heavy tears trickling down her face in the quiet darkness of her room, all Macy could feel was shame.

She was ashamed of the time she spent touching up her makeup, ashamed of the amount of times she changed her outfit, and the amount of times she asked her reflection if it thought he would like the way she looked. The shame didn’t end with the fabric of her thin-strapped white dress, it flowed into her heart, which she naively decided to pin to her sleeve in the name of _daring to see things differently_.

Daring, an adjective meaning adventurous, audaciously bold, and unconventional. Three things Macy Vaughn was not. She was practical, a devout realist, and relied on logic and facts more than emotions because they were consistent and predictable. The heart was hard to predict and lacked consistency. Her own was proof of that. One moment she found herself longing for the Darklighter, in the next all she could think about was _him_.

And within that truth lies her greatest shame: allowing herself to forget that a good man with a kind heart was still capable of hurting her. 

Hours felt like years as she attempted to cry herself to sleep that night. No matter how many times she attempted to force them close, her eyes remained glued to the ceiling, where images of what she saw in the command center played over and over again like a black and white silent film. She tried thinking about the latest research she's read on gene splicing and the chocolate soufflé cookie recipe she found on Pinterest to distract her but eventually her thoughts drifted back to _them_ , prolonging the waterworks, the tightness in her chest. 

Macy thought it was sadness that filled her lungs, a side effect of shame. But then she felt a rush of adrenaline, a need to punch something, to scream, and knew it was her old friend anger. It was anger that drove her out of bed and into clothes comfortable enough to run in.

Thirty minutes later and she could still feel it. It was so thick that it was palpable. Just like the memory of that kiss. 

Macy turned up the music blaring through her Airpods, pushing herself to run until the ache in her chest expanded. Each movement was in tune with the percussion humming against her eardrums. Maggie made her “emotion playlists” to help cure her of Emotional Avoidance Syndrome, a term her empath sister used to describe Macy’s inability to communicate her feelings. Macy could barely remember the psychology course she took in college but she was certain that Emotional Avoidance Syndrome was a made up term. 

She didn't need to be a psychologist to know that. 

If anything, she was meeting her emotions head-on. She pushed air out of her mouth, and breathed it back in, inhaling and exhaling her way through each step. 

Beyoncé yelling into her ear was proving to be the perfect soundtrack for her anger.

_Ring the alarm, l've been through this too long, because I'll be damned if I see another chick on your arm._

Macy didn't know why Maggie included this song on her anger playlist but the more she listened to the lyrics, the more her anger began to twist itself into something more violent, uncontrollable. This new feeling coursed through her like an electric current, lighting a familiar fire beneath her skin. 

Rage.

_Tell me how should I feel_

_When you made me belong_

_And the thought of you just touching her is what I hate most_

In her mind, he was still touching her, kissing her, body pressed intimately against hers like they were old lovers, even after _she_ tried to kill her, even after _he_ told his sisters that he had feelings for her. Macy didn't think he would lie to Mel or Maggie about the way he felt, but the moment his lips touched the enemy, he became a liar. And she hated that. She hated the fact that she wasn't in her bed or soaking in a warm lavender-vanilla scented bubble bath listening to her favorite Mozart concerto because of a man.

Macy grit her teeth, all too aware of the darkness devouring the fire in her veins. It was all-consuming, the way her demon side tended to be when it was awakened. But this time it was different, this time she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, like her powers were a sentient being that had a mind of its own. She took in a breath, the geneticist in her in awe of what she could feel happening inside of her body. Maggie and Mel could never put into words what it felt like when their powers mutated, because the change happened suddenly and without ceremony. However, even if they could explain it, Macy knew deep down that it would be different for her, because _she_ was different. 

Now that her Charmed powers were on temporary leave, she felt more demon than witch, more power than control. Her powers were expanding. She didn't know that demons experienced magical mutations but it made sense that they would.

 _We_ , she mentally corrected.

Because no matter how much everyone around her tried to deny it, she was just as much a demon as she was a witch. Even more so now that the Power of Three was on hold. 

A faint light drew her gaze downward. Macy's eyes widened at the glow seeping through her clothes. It was subtle; faint enough to not be detected by anyone who passed her by without giving her a moment's glance, but bright enough to be a cause for alarm. Her mouth went dry, and suddenly she was all-too-aware of how heavy her tongue was. Beads of sweat gathered at the space between her brow, an unusual occurrence on a cold night in Seattle.

The last time she felt like this it was because she had taken on the Source. All that raw power was too much for her or _anyone_ , for that matter, to handle. It was centuries worth of magic, a fire not meant to be contained. But this fire felt different. This fire belonged to her. She just needed to figure out how to tame it.

Macy's lips parted, making way for a familiar name to tumble out into the open as they always did. "Har..." she started, but she couldn't bring herself to finish. Even if he knew how to control her fire, she couldn't deal with seeing the man who betrayed her, the man who broke her heart in ways she didn't think possible after Galvin. Her imagination wasted no time in painting a vivid picture of his mussed hair and swollen lips courtesy of Abigael Jameson-Caine. A mere hour has passed since she walked in on them. It was enough time for her to run home, take a shower, and fool herself into thinking she could sleep the pain away but knowing _him_ , he was probably still in his suit, stewing over what happened. 

Or maybe he and Abigael moved their affair somewhere more intimate, somewhere where she could unbutton his shirt, while he...

Macy shook the thought away. The memory of his disgust when she asked if he and Abigael were a thing replaced it. He told her in so many words that danger could never be exciting to someone who was thinking clearly.The more she thought about it, the more intense the flame burning in her chest became, making her light up like a supernova. Soon no amount of layers in the world would be able to dull the power in her bones. So she kept running, determined to figure out what was happening to her on her own. 

She didn’t allow herself to stop until she was standing outside of Safe Space.

This was not the place she expected to end up. Midnight was fast approaching and yet there were still people working inside. Macy thought about turning back. Not only did she not have a keycard to get into the command center but she ran the risk of running into other...  
  
"Macy, is that you?" 

Macy's blood stilled. She would know that voice anywhere.

The smile she plastered on her face before turning around felt forced but it was all she could manage after the night she had. "Oh hey, Swan."

The perky Safe Space manager pushed her glasses up, before giving her a once over. "I didn't expect to see you here this late. And...you're glowing?"

"Oh, I decided to go for a late run. And the glow...is...um...from my workout clothes. You see I'm..."

Swan's eyes lit up. "Designing solar-powered clothing?" 

It was a strange idea but Macy went with it, nodding her head, like the enthusiastic visionary that she was. "Exactly! Wow, Swan. You're good."

"Well you know what that say about lifelong visionaries. We can spot a vision a mile away." 

Swan was right about one thing. Macy spotted her _vision_ almost immediately. The red key card hanging from Swan's neck was a like a beacon of opportunity. Before Swan could say another word, Macy flew at her, wrapping her arms around her like they were old friends. "I don't have anyone to talk to about my project. You're the first person to truly get it," she said, as the shorter woman patted her back awkwardly.

"Oh, Macy. There are scientists and tech geniuses out there that would love to help you with your brilliant idea. I'm certain of it."

Macy pulled away, putting a comfortable distance between them. "You think so?"  
  
Swan nodded, eyes gleaming behind her thick frames. "Yes, in fact, I could introduce you to..."

Macy stared down at her FitBit, the hand holding the stolen keycard tucked safely behind her back. "That's a great idea, Swan. Thank you. Listen, I have to go inside and grab something before the building closes down for the night. See you tomorrow?"  
  
"Sure thing," Swan replied, flashing one more sugary-sweet smile at her before disappearing down the street.

Macy breathed a sigh of relief, pulled open the door to Safe Space, and rushed to the command center before anyone else could ask about her _glowing_ athleisure. 


End file.
